


An Unlikely Victorian Heroine

by Marks



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-29
Updated: 2009-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're like a Victorian heroine," Brendon says, rolling one bracelet over Ryan's hand to expose a little more skin, then another and another until he has a small pile on the bed. "Arms aren't supposed to get me so hot, Ross."</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unlikely Victorian Heroine

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: wrist, tattoos.

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |    
[bandom](http://marksykins.livejournal.com/tag/bandom), [brendon/ryan](http://marksykins.livejournal.com/tag/brendon/ryan), [fic](http://marksykins.livejournal.com/tag/fic), [panic at the disco](http://marksykins.livejournal.com/tag/panic+at+the+disco), [rated nc-17](http://marksykins.livejournal.com/tag/rated+nc-17)  
  
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Ryan wriggles underneath Brendon. His expression is pinched, but Brendon knows he doesn't mean it.

"Come on," Ryan warns, voice just this side of whining. "Do something already -- I look stupid like this."

Like this is naked from the waist down, his cock hard and brushing up against the tails of his button-down shirt. It's only Ryan who thinks he looks stupid; Brendon begs to differ. But Brendon begs a lot when it comes to Ryan.

"Impatient," Brendon murmurs, even though he really has no room to talk. He's been pretty much bursting out of his skin, itching to have Ryan spread out beneath him even though it's only been two days since the last time. Brendon leans over to steal a kiss, sucking Ryan's bottom lip into his mouth, biting just a little because Ryan likes that, and grinding their hips together because Ryan likes that even more.

Ryan doesn't bother protesting, just moans as Brendon pulls back and flicks open his top two buttons, dipping his head to flicker his tongue against Ryan's sternum. The shirt quickly falls open under Brendon's fingers, but Brendon doesn't make Ryan sit up so he can push it off Ryan's shoulders. As usual, Ryan's wearing about a million bracelets -- everything from fan-made beaded elastic things to a leather cuff -- and trying to get his shirt off over those would only result in a tangle of shirt bondage.

Not that that's not an appealing idea. But Brendon has other plans. Brendon licks a long line up Ryan's throat as he unbuttons Ryan's cuffs, making Ryan's breath catch as Brendon rolls up one sleeve to the elbow, then the other.

"You're like a Victorian heroine," Brendon says, rolling one bracelet over Ryan's hand to expose a little more skin, then another and another until he has a small pile on the bed. "Arms aren't supposed to get me so hot, Ross."

"Should I be offended?" Ryan asks, but Brendon can hear the laughter in his voice.

Brendon shakes his head as he presses his lips against the 'Mad as a Hatter' inked over a snaking blue vein. "No. You should let me fuck you."

Ryan hums and reaches for the lube with the arm Brendon isn't currently molesting. Brendon has just barely popped open the snaps on the cuff he'd purposely left for last when Ryan's long-fingered grip slicks up Brendon's cock. There's so much sensation that he can't help scraping his teeth over Ryan's wrist, but it's not like Ryan really minds. In fact, Ryan's only reply is a choked out, "_Brendon_" and a jerk of his hips.

Brendon reaches between them to pull up Ryan's other hand, pressing it above his head. His fingers are lube-slippery and it's obscene to look at, reminding Brendon of all the hot, wet, and sweaty things they get up to together. Brendon closes his eyes and dips his head down, licking between Ryan's fingers, then up and over to suck two into his mouth and down his throat. It's worth the plasticky taste to hear the sudden broken noise spill from Ryan's lips. When Brendon slides his mouth off and sits back a few seconds later, Ryan's already lubed up his free hand, working it between his legs, fingers pressed deep inside. Brendon bites his lip and watches the twist of Ryan's naked wrist.

"You're only half done," Ryan reminds him, pushing up the arm still under Brendon's fingers. To anyone who doesn't know Ryan as well as Brendon does, he might sound cool, indifferent even, but Brendon knows better -- Ryan is wrecked and ready.

Brendon pushes their foreheads together. "Right." He makes short work of the bracelets on Ryan's other arm, adding them to the pile, and when they're all gone, he traces every bit of 'Thin as a Dime' with his tongue. It seems like he's tasting the ink, even though that's silly and impossible, but it doesn't matter because all it does is make him harder. "Ryan, I want --" Brendon doesn't even have to finish his sentence before Ryan is pulling his fingers out of himself and stretching both arms above his head. Brendon groans and squeezes the base of his dick, just guiding himself enough so he can press the head against Ryan's hole. Then he reaches up to grip Ryan's wrists tight, pinning them against the mattress. Ryan wraps his long legs around Brendon's waist and rocks his hips as Brendon pushes inside, short movements that pull Brendon closer with every thrust.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Brendon says intelligently as Ryan moans below him. There are no words to describe how good it feels to have Ryan squeezing hot and tight around him; all he can do is fuck Ryan faster, change the angle, and press down harder as Ryan struggles to free himself from Brendon's grasp. Ryan tries pushing up, his dick trapped between their stomachs. Brendon knows that Ryan probably can't come like this, but he doesn't want to let Ryan go just yet; Ryan seems to sense this as he rolls his hips hard. A pleased little smile tugs at the corners of his mouth when he drags a ragged gasp from Brendon's mouth, the sound turning into a litany of curse words.

"Brendon," Ryan says in a low voice, his tone a barely-disguised order, "I want you to come inside me."

The curses trail off into Ryan's name and then a wordless moan as Brendon shakes apart, coming in hot pulses. Brendon's fingers twitch against Ryan's wrist just enough for Ryan to free himself from the hold. Brendon blinks down and swallows, watching as Ryan's fingers wrap around his own dick. It only takes a handful of strokes before Ryan clenches tight around Brendon's oversensitized cock, shooting come all over both of their chests.

Brendon pulls out with a wince and collapses against Ryan's side, dragging Ryan's arm over to press another kiss against his fluttering pulse point. "You're my favorite Victorian heroine, Ryan Ross," he declares.

Ryan snorts, amused. "Maybe. But you'd still look better in the petticoats."


End file.
